


Beauty and the Candelabra

by eccentricities_of_kitties



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Unrequited, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 14:59:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11992146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eccentricities_of_kitties/pseuds/eccentricities_of_kitties
Summary: AU in which Belle was returned to her cell and Lumiere was the one who fell for her.Oneshot or more, depending on opinions, leave a comment! <3





	Beauty and the Candelabra

**Author's Note:**

> Poem by Charles Baudelaire  
> translation: http://bonjourfrenchwords.tumblr.com/post/151341591723/love-is-a-rose-every-petal-an-illusion-every

In the countless years since his transformation into a candelabra he had only ever been held in the Master’s sharp claws. Lumiere craved human touch, needed it, coveted it. He missed Plumette’s lips. He missed pinching Cogsworth’s cheek and watching it fill with colour. He missed ruffling Chip’s curly hair.

 

When Belle grabbed his handle that day when she came for her father, he felt like someone was holding his hand again. Nothing had ever fit so perfectly. Her warm, soft skin against his cold, twisted metal. She’d carried him to the East wing, and her fingers closed around his waist would have made him blush if he possessed blood.

 

It was hard seeing her be put back in the cells, at the Master’s insistence. He visited her every day in secret, as the Master had forbidden direct contact unless it was to bring her the measly portions of food and water she was allowed. He climbed all the way up from the servants’ quarters above the kitchen. He got strange looks from the others but they generally didn’t care; they knew Lumiere was quirky. Probably thought he was chasing pigeons or something.

 

He knew Belle only thought of him as a friend for the moment. But that didn’t stop him from hoping. The spell could be broken with true love’s kiss right? Who was to say the witch hadn’t included everyone in that little clause? And when it came to magic, especially binding magical contracts, there was always a loophole.

 

“You don’t have to do this.”

 

“I want to.”

 

“But if your Master finds out you’re coming here every day -”

 

“He won’t, Mademoiselle, I am certain of this.”

 

Belle didn’t like it. He could see the guilt mixed in with her appreciative expression. She accepted the wrapped supplies reluctantly, consumed them sparingly and thanked him effusively.

 

“Delicious, as always,” Belle complimented, retreating again to the warmest corner, furthest from the constantly open window, and drafty exposed hallway. 

 

Lumiere frowned, sitting on some rubble beside her. “I could bring you a blanket of some sort.”

 

“Too risky. You do too much,” Belle thanked him sadly. “He’d take it, and surely punish whoever gave me it.”

 

“You could hide it, under these rocks - or tie it to the outside of the window when he’s coming? Ach, I hate to think of you up here alone at night, so cold,” Lumiere shuddered.

 

Belle laughed softly. “It’s really not so bad, Lumiere, don’t worry about me.”

 

“I can’t help it, cherie,” Lumiere sighed, looking away. “I can’t help but feel responsible.”

 

“How on earth are you responsible? It’s not you, it’s that beast.”

 

“But I encouraged you to leave your cell, I led you to the East wing and gave you a bedroom. He was furious with me. But you received all the punishment.”

 

Belle sighed. “I think you’ve been punished enough by this horrid curse.”

 

“C - curse?! Whoever said we were cursed?” Lumiere stuttered, standing awkwardly. 

 

Belle laughed at him and held out her hand. “May I?”

 

Lumiere nodded, wordless, and she picked him up gently, turning him this way and that to examine the metal work.

 

“Flawless,” she muttered under her breath. “When I first saw you I thought a witch must live here. Who did this to you? The beast?”

 

“An enchantress. But it is not for you to worry about, cherie,” Lumiere said, with a calm facade. Beneath the surface, he was writhing. She was touching him. Again. And didn’t seem to realise exactly how amazing it felt, or how profoundly she was affecting him.

 

“Are your clothes fixed in place? Do they rip like real clothes? Call it an inventor’s curiosity,” Belle said, turning him to examine the hem of his jacket.

 

“Uh - um. They are fixed to me, and they bend in places like an ordinary piece of cloth would, but in most places they’re as solid and immovable as the rest of me,” Lumiere explained, showing how he could adjust his collar, but his boots were just a part of his leg.

 

“Incredible. Perfect,” she mused, holding him closer to inspect the tinier details. 

 

Lumiere hooked his foot under her thumb and swung so he was hanging upside down bat-like from her hand.

 

“Ah, stop, mademoiselle, you’re flattering me!” 

 

Belle giggled. “You’re easy to flatter.”

 

Lumiere flipped and landed on his feet, faking a gasp. “Are you calling me vain?”

 

“If the metal boot fits…”

 

“Oh, I’m wounded,” Lumiere cried, swooning into Belle’s hand. 

Belle rolled her eyes. “You’ll survive. Shouldn’t you be getting back?”

 

Lumiere sighed. “Ah, I suppose. Cogsworth will come looking for me if I don’t go play chess with him soon.”

 

“Thank you, again, for everything,” Belle said carrying him to the window. “No pressure, but your visits are the only thing keeping me happy here. I would have given up hope long ago.”

 

Lumiere scuffed his feet, standing on the ledge of the window. “Aies pitié. It’s no trouble at all. Uh, listen, I wanted to ask you…”

 

“Quick, hurry, I think I hear him coming,” Belle said, hurrying him out of the window. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

“Always, cherie.”

 

Climbing down the vines Lumiere thought about Belle’s hands again. She held him delicately, like he was a prized object. He supposed he was in a way. He hated himself at times. If he was human again, he’d never be held so completely, never able to entrust his entire body to her touch. And yet if he stayed this way forever, she’d never see him as anything more than what he was. An object. 

 

It wasn’t her fault. Lumiere would never allow himself to resent Belle for what she simply did not feel. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t come back every single day just to make her smile and laugh and feel like she wasn’t alone. 

 

He recited softly to himself on his descent,

 

“L'amour est une rose. 

Chaque pètale une illusion. 

Chaque èpine une rèalitè.”


End file.
